Days Like These
by AffableKiwi
Summary: Alois/Ciel "Ciel has long since become accustomed to Alois's constant need for physical contact, though acclimation doesn't necessarily mean welcomed." AU Modern day


A/N: I wrote this thing ages ago and never finished it. But since it's spring break and I have time to kill today, I figured why not slap some crap ending on and share. Gratuitous amounts of pointless cuteness ahead!

**Days Like These:**

Oftentimes, Alois will just touch. There are no thick ulterior motives behind his actions, nor are his hands heavy with ill intent. The hands that play with soft hairs at the nape of Ciel's neck and curl about smaller, far more delicate fingers are simply playful. They graze and brush and explore, curious.

Ciel has long since become accustomed to Alois's constant need for physical contact, though acclimation doesn't necessarily mean welcomed. There are many times when he will brush the hand off with complete indifference or make some irate remark about Alois hanging on him constantly. On the rare days when he feels particularly compliant (and they're alone), he will take Alois's hand away in his own and leave them tangled together. On the remainder of those days, Alois finds it difficult to refrain from smiling.

Alois knows of the bold line Ciel has drawn between them. It's not spoken of, but it's there and they're both aware of it. Yet he is utterly content to dance along it, hovering right along the edges and poking a toe across it every now and then. He finds the soft rosy hue that often dusts Ciel's cheeks to be endearing – it doesn't take much to leave the boy flustered.

Neither does it take much for it all to begin, really.

Today is no different. The two lounge about on Ciel's bed, both clad in pajamas. Rain plummets from the sky outside, a quiet pitter patter that is occasionally accompanied by a flash of lightening or rumble of thunder. As per Alois's request, the television sits in a new temporary location – on the dresser directly across from the mattress, a wide flat screen that's probably only used when he is over. It's a lazy day and both boys are happy for once to spend the entirety of it doing nothing.

Ciel occupies his time by flipping between reading his book and watching the TV. Whatever movie is on now seems to have been worthy enough to have captured his interest and so he watches. Alois, however, is quite the opposite; curled up on his side, his head against Ciel's leg, he watches the television with glazed eyes. Restless fingers curl and uncurl against the blankets, occasionally stretching out to finger the seams, but mostly itching to occupy themselves elsewhere. He releases a heavy exhale and rolls his head in so his forehead is pressed to Ciel's leg rather than his cheek. He stays like that. Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale. Ciel smells good – like clean clothes and just the hint of something sweet, like angel food cake or butter-cream icing. Surely from the incredible amount of pastries he stuffs his face with daily.

Such casual treatment to contact like this is not something that has always existed between the two. It has taken quite some time for Alois to be able to use Ciel as his pillow and vice versa, without being met with irritation. Ciel hardly reacts these days to the presence of a head on his lap, at least when in private. Well, he hardly makes a point to shove said head off – he still oftentimes comments on it, his tone thick with tired reluctance.

Alois remains this way for a few minutes and then he pulls away and sits up, still close, his legs curled beneath him. Ciel remains intent on watching the screen, not bothered by Alois's movement. A brief moment's contemplation and then Alois decides to move forward and gently, rest his hand on Ciel's abdomen. The boy looks over slowly, his lips parting to ask something and then-.

_Oh_.

Alois leans forward, testing the waters. Ciel gives him a long look, but his body soon becomes pliant, bending backwards to allow himself to be pressed between the mattress and the boy before him. Alois does not loom over. Rather, he presses against, bringing his cheek to the other's neck and resting it there, tilting his nose into the dark strands of hair that lie flat on the back of his neck. Somewhere else in the room, the TV hums on.

Ciel's chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh. Alois enjoys the sensation and he can feel a steady _thump thump thump_ at the top of his neck, a reassuring presence. His hand moves up across Ciel's stomach, taking its sweet time to cross the expanse of his chest and curl about a bony shoulder.

"What are you thinking about, Ciel?" Eyelashes brush against a jawbone as he tilts his head up just an inch.

The smaller of the two exhales once again and when he speaks, Alois feels his words rumble in his throat. "How difficult it is to watch a movie I'm interested in from this angle."

Alois snorts. "Should I move, then?"

"If you do, you'll just complain about how you had to."

"Hah." He leans up to look at Ciel, his lips brimming with a smile. "You're a great mind reader."

"Hardly. You're predictable," he replies, closing his eyes.

The blond giggles, arching his neck his so he can press a small kiss to the patch that covers Ciel's discolored iris. "I think that's a bull shit excuse you're using to cover up how well you know me." Another kiss to his other eyelid, then, and he nestles back down against his neck.

Ciel doesn't agree, though neither does he disagree. Eventually, Alois feels his breathing begin to taper off and grow slow. It only takes him a moment to figure out that the boy has fallen asleep like this, even after making quite a stink about his inability to watch whatever it is he was focusing on earlier.

_Oh Ciel_, Alois thinks, curling closer in towards the boy. He knows that even with how much Ciel protests things like this, he really doesn't mind it. _And you call me the predictable one._


End file.
